A Dark Knight: A Pair of Thieves
by Jak Pickens
Summary: As Bruce Wayne patrols the dark streets of Gotham, he comes across a mugger. This mugger, however, turns out to be a bit more than Bruce can handle by himself. His investigation leads him to Selina Kyle who ends up having to make an impossible decision that could rock the foundations of Gotham forever.
1. Part 1

**A/N: This is the first part of a two to three part miniseries I had an idea for just a few days ago. Originally, it was gonna be a oneshot, but I pretty much just started writing and I looked up and it was twelve pages long on Microsoft Word and the main conflict hadn't even started yet. So, I decided to break it up into parts. Hope you enjoy!**

 **A Dark Knight: A Pair of Thieves**

A dark silhouette raced across the rooftops in pursuit of a scream resonating through an alleyway. Bruce Wayne was in full vigilante gear, from his new armored jacket to a dark hood and a metal mask that wrapped from the bridge of his nose all the way around his face, leaving only his eyes uncovered. Alfred had modified the mask with a voice changer so when he spoke it sounded deeper and scarier. He bounded from the edge of one building and flew for a few seconds before reaching out and gripping the side of a fire escape. He climbed a few stories, using the railings as a ladder and pulled himself up onto the flat roof.

Now at his destination, he crept to the opposite side of the building and made his way down the fire escape silently. A voice from below demanded, "Hand over anything valuable: watches, jewelry, money, wallets, whatever you got. Do it quick and you can all go home tonight."

Bruce quickly assessed the situation. The robber was around 5'10" and had broad shoulders. He was holding three people, one older man and two younger women, at knifepoint. Seeing no other threat, Bruce descended to the second floor.

He jumped from his perch and landed on the ground kneeling. He slowly lifted his head up as the robber took two steps back in surprise. In his deep, distorted voice, Bruce commanded, "Drop the knife."

Typically, the dark attire and deep voice, paired with him appearing from out of nowhere would scare off Bruce's targets. However, this one was different. The assailant was wearing a mask that exposed his mouth, and Bruce saw him…grin. He called, "Walk away, mate. This doesn't involve you." He brandished his knife and claimed, "I'm just tryin' to survive…"

Bruce cut him off, "Well this isn't the way to do it." When no more words were exchanged, Bruce made a move towards the mugger.

He had the entire fight planned in his head. He'd grab his opponents wrist and make him drop the knife, twist him so that he had full control of his body, and then judo throw him onto the ground head first, which would usually knock the other person out. It'd be just another mugger stopped, nothing special.

He never reached his opponent

A white-hot, burning sensation shot through his right calf. It was so painful that he didn't even scream, Bruce just dropped to the floor in agony, cradling his injured leg. The three innocents were all screaming their heads off for help, but the robber barked, "Shut it and fill the bag!" After a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity to Bruce, the man thanked the three before whispering something to the older man and then stabbing him around his collarbone area. The masked mugger whistled loudly up into the alley and then sprinted out onto the main road.

Bruce didn't fully remember what happened next. He assumed that when he didn't respond to Alfred, his guardian had found him in the alley and whisked him off to Wayne Manor.

Two days later, Bruce woke up in his own king-size bed. He felt drugged, like he'd been given something to ease the pain in his leg… Bruce almost panicked. He couldn't feel his leg. Ripping off the covers, he saw that his right leg was wrapped heavily, but was still attached to the rest of his body.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bruce called out, "Alfred?!"

A few seconds later, the butler came bustling with a small smile. "Finally awake, are we, Master Bruce? It's about time," he checked his watch for dramatic effect. "For a while there I thought I'd given you too many pain meds."

Bruce asked, "What happened?"

Alfred nodded. "You were shot through the leg, Master B."

"Did the mugger get away?"

Alfred nodded. "Yes, he did get away. However, I think you may be happy that you didn't stop him, Master B."

Utterly confused, Bruce questioned, "I'm sorry, what?"

"The man that the mugger was robbing was a certain Councilman George Alvin."

"Does that mean something?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I'll have you know that Mr. Alvin is a known pedophile and those two young ladies were a part of an underage sex-trafficking ring that the police busted just this morning. So, it seems that the man that you confronted was actually doing the same sort of work that we do."

Bruce shook his head. He asked, "Do you know who shot me?" Alfred appeared confused, so Bruce elaborated, "The man who I confronted, he wasn't holding a gun. I think there may have been two people in that alley with me."

Alfred shrugged, "Well, the second one must've been a pretty damn good shot. The bullet missed every major vein and bone that could've crippled you. Now, you'd better get some rest. It'll be some time before you should walk around on that bloody leg of yours."

Alfred made to leave, but Bruce called him back. He requested, "Alfred, can you bring me any files on vigilante activity in Gotham? I'd like to see if there're any other similar cases to this one."

Alfred nodded. "I'll get right on it, Master Bruce."

* * *

Ted Grant was going through the bag of loot that he'd stolen from that old creep, Councilman Alvin. He wouldn't keep any of it, just sell the lot and then split the money with his partner. He asked himself, "What's taking Floyd so long?" He heard light footsteps on the fire escape and a few seconds later the window cracked open. "Speak of the devil…"

Another teen climbed through the window and into the small apartment. He was African-American and skinny, but very fit. He'd pulled his afro back into a bun to keep his wild hair out of his face.

"That could've been bad," Floyd stated.

Ted shrugged, "It went fine. We didn't get a ton off the old man but I'm just glad we took that son of a bitch down."

Floyd nodded. "Yeah, that part went great. I'm talking about the other guy…in the hood."

"Yeah, who was that anyways?"

"No idea. What did he want?"

"I think he thought I was mugging them…"

"Which you were," Floyd pointed out.

Ted shrugged, "True, but I think he thought the Councilman was innocent. Nice shot, by the way."

Floyd scoffed. "We've known each other for our entire lives; have I every missed?"

Rolling his eyes, Ted responded, "No, but it was still a great shot." Ted sighed. "It kinda sucks, though. The other guy seemed like he was just trying to help."

"That's too bad for him, really. He was gonna attack you, so I fired."

Ted nodded. "Anyways, we probably got a couple hundred bucks from that one. I'll go sell it to Nicky the Fence tomorrow morning." He glanced up at his friend who seemed bothered. "You alright, Floyd?"

He nodded. "It's not like I did anything wrong, just that something about it feels…off, ya know?"

Ted shook his head. "Floyd… _he_ rushed _me_. You were just watching my back is all. There's really nothing to it, so don't beat yourself up over shooting some wannabe vigilante in the leg."

"Vigilante?" Floyd questioned.

"Yeah, I think that's what he was. He was a vigilante trying to make Gotham a safer place," he scoffed and raised a soda can in a toast, "and all the luck in the world to him."

* * *

It'd only been a week since Bruce had woken up before he was up and walking back and forth between his study and his room. Granted, he was on crutches, but he was still overjoyed at having mobility again. Many nights, he'd end up sleeping in the study, and sometimes he wouldn't sleep at all.

One particular night, he felt a familiar draft come from the far window and he knew he wasn't alone. He waited a few seconds, pretending that he didn't know she was there before saying, "Hey, Cat."

He heard her arms drop to her sides in disappointment and she whined, "You're no fun anymore." She jumped over the side of the couch and landed next to him gracefully, eyeing his cast. "What happened, B? You trip over a spare gold bar or something?"

He scoffed. "It's a long story. What're you doing here, Cat?" She typically only dropped by when she needed something nowadays.

"Jeeves," which was her nickname for Alfred, "called me and basically said you hadn't talked to or seen anyone other than him in over a week. Figured I'd stop by. Besides, I needed to ask you something," she stated in a serious tone

"What?" Bruce asked, a little nervous now.

"How do you keep getting hurt? I mean, I get that you used to box and stuff and that's why you were always scratched up and whatever, but what're you doing now?"

"Why do you ask?" Bruce asked. He had already prepared an excuse a long time ago if someone asked why he was always hurt or where he spent his nights, but this was Cat. She'd see right through him if he lied.

She sighed and pulled out a photo from her coat pocket. His eyes widened as he stared at a picture of a black armor-clad figure in a dark hood and mask.

It was a photo of him.

She saw his reaction and knew right then and there what the answer to her question was, but she wanted _him_ to answer her. "Is this you?"

He froze, and then nodded. "Yes."

She slammed the picture onto the coffee table and scolded, "Damn you, Bruce! I can understand going after Jerome, or even that Strange guy, but…this!? Do you _want_ to get yourself killed?"

Bruce looked up at her and their eyes met. He could see that there was no anger in her eyes, just fear. He spoke quietly, "I've been doing this for over a year, Selina. This," he gestured to his leg, "is by far the worst thing that has happened."

"But…why? Why do you do it?"

He sighed and then blurted out, "Because no one saved me." She froze when he admitted this, completely unable to look at the younger boy. "Do you remember a few years ago when you told me bad things just happen, and there's nothing I can do about it? Well, I disagree, and I am _doing_ something about it." He paused. "Selina," he reached out to take her hand, and she surprisingly let him, "I have this… calling. I just can't sit here and act like everything is great when there're people out there who are dying because no one will help them; because no one cares enough. If all I could do is save one person from experiencing what happened to me…that'd be enough."

She shook her head and told him, "You're full of shit, you know that?" He looked down and nodded. She kissed him on the top of the head and then said, "I gotta go." She started to march off. Switching into a teasing tone, she told him, "Try not to die…hero." And then she was gone.

Bruce stared at the floor. Even though she was gone, he responded to her in a whisper. "I'm not a hero."

* * *

Selina quickly descended down the tree that led to Bruce's study, desperate to get as far away from the place as possible. She practically ran back to the main road and climbed onto the motorcycle she'd borrowed from Tabby and raced back to Gotham. She kept repeating in her head, "Oh God, oh God, oh God…this is bad."

She had taken the picture herself while on reconnaissance for a few friends of hers. She'd known both boys since childhood, one of them had even given her a place to sleep a couple times, but in that moment she wanted nothing to do with either of them. She wondered aloud, "What did I just get myself into?"

Eventually, she arrived back in the city and pulled up to the Sirens Club. Climbing off the bike, she got a few looks from some older men looking for…entertainment. She'd gotten used to the looks since she started wearing an all leather suit with a whip. To put it simply, it tended to attract eyes. One catcalled at her and she flicked him off as she entered the club. She was greeted by a familiar sight: Barbara and Tabby bickering over God knows what.

She passed them with a quick, "Hey," and climbed up the spiral staircase to her room above the club. Making her way to the window, she climbed out onto the fire escape and sat on the railing with her feet dangling off the edge. She was easily three stories up, but it was fun to mess with fate. After all, fate seemed to always be messing with her.

In an odd way, Selina had known that the Vigilante, which is what people from the Narrows had started calling him, was Bruce and she just didn't want it to be true. Bruce had been through some serious shit in his life, but nothing anywhere close to this. There were some dangerous, powerful people in the Narrows, and if they found out that a billionaire was running around in the back alleys at night, there's no telling what they'd do.

At the same time, she knew that Bruce was a big boy and could take care of himself…most of the time, at least.

Who was she kidding? That kid had nearly gotten himself killed countless times, and, most of the time, he would've if she hadn't saved his ass.

Why did she always save him? Honestly, he was probably more of a nuisance than he was worth.

Even then, she'd always go back to him no matter what he'd do to her emotions, and he'd always forgive her no matter what she did to him. She whispered, "Goddamn that boy."

A voice from behind her asked, "I hope you aren't talking about me, Cat."

She nearly fell off the railing where she was seated. Once she was stable, Selina whirled around and saw a familiar face grinning at her. She rolled her eyes and said, "I hate it when you do that, Floyd."

He chuckled and said, "Well, I learned from the best, didn't I?"

She knew that he was talking about her. When they were a bit younger, around 11 or 12, Selina had started teaching Floyd how to move silently in exchange for him teaching her how to use a gun effectively. The slightly older boy walked up to the railing where Cat was sitting and leaned up against it.

Selina asked, "What're you doing here? You know that Barbara and Tabby don't like you."

He shrugged. "They'll never know, and I'm here because I need your advice."

Selina cocked an eyebrow. She mockingly asked, "So, the student has yet to learn everything from the master, huh?"

He scoffed and said, "It's not a big deal, really. It's just…" Selina could've sworn that she saw his darker cheeks tint a little bit red.

"It's just what?" she pushed.

He shook his head. "Never mind, this was a bad idea. I'll just go…"

"Oh, like hell you will. You aren't leaving this platform until you ask me what you came to ask me." To make a point, she climbed off the railing and stamped her foot on the platform they were standing on.

He sighed. "Fine. It's just…there's this…girl. She goes to Gotham Central and I'm considering trying to enroll."

Selina tried to hold in her laughter, she honestly did, but she couldn't help herself but cackle at the older boy's expense. He looked extremely uncomfortable, which was a nice change as Selina had always gone to him with boy stuff. They were kind of honorary brother and sister when it came to stuff like that. When she finally got her laughter reined in, she asked, "W-why would you do that?"

He shrugged. "I'm eighteen, which means I can legally live by myself. Until now, I'd be taken upstate since I was underage. But now…" She shook her head and he quickly said, "Never mind. It's a stupid idea. There's actually something else." He nodded towards her and asked, "Were you able to identify the Vigilante, yet?"

She lied. "No. My…informant didn't have anything. I'll keep trying though." She grinned slyly and said, "On the other thing though, I don't think you'd be able to get through a metal detector with your…condition." She pointed at his right eye.

Floyd sighed. He'd only ever told two people about the machine that replaced his right eye and Selina was one of them. Five years back, he'd been in an accident in which the majority of his right eye had been destroyed. He had been approached by a scientist who was testing out a new technology for soldiers that, to put simply, gave them superhuman vision and aim. The man offered to pay for all his hospital bills and make sure he ended up back on the streets instead of upstate, but only if he agreed to be used as an experiment. Thinking that it was a win-win scenario, Floyd agreed. Years later, he would hear the name of the doctor again, this time, as a fugitive and criminal: Professor Hugo Strange.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Floyd nodded. "Well, keep trying to find the Vigilante. You know where to find me or Ted if you do." Selina nodded, listening but not really hearing.

She told him, "You know, if you wanted to get this girl, you could probably manage without going to her school." He stopped nodded for her to continue. "I think most girls would find you attractive, to be honest."

He smiled and said, "Thanks Cat." He pulled her into a side hug and planted a kiss on her temple before ascending up the fire escape and out of sight.

Selina shook her head. What was she going to do? Neither Floyd nor Ted would tell her why they wanted to find Bruce so badly, which meant that she didn't know whether or not it'd be safe for Bruce. Sitting on her windowsill, her hand unconsciously drifted up to where he'd kissed her. It was a totally brotherly kiss, nothing like anything she'd had with Bruce, but it warmed her to the core anyways.

* * *

Floyd stormed into his apartment and threw himself into the couch across from where Ted was passed out. The sudden, violent movement shook his best friend awake and he asked in a sleepy tone, "How'd it go?"

Floyd responded sharply, "She lied to me. She knows who the Vigilante is and she won't tell me. She must know him or something…"

Ted asked, "Why are we looking for this guy again?"

Floyd huffed, " _Because_ he's doing the same stuff we are, and I think we should…I don't know… form a working relationship?"

Ted scoffed. "But _why_ is he so important?"

Floyd sighed. "Because people are afraid of him…criminals are afraid of him. He appears, attacks, and then disappears without a trace. Fear is a powerful thing, Ted. Me and you, we're just criminals who target the rich and corrupt. He, on the other hand, scares all criminals. He's an enigma."

Ted asked, "What's an enigma?"

Floyd told him, "Go back to sleep, Ted."

His friend shrugged and turned over, and it wasn't a full minute before he was snoring again.

Floyd, left alone to his thoughts, let his mind wander. _Who is the Vigilante and how is he connected to Selina? Why is she not telling me who he is? I just want to let him know we aren't the bad guys._ However, he knew that the last part wasn't true. Some part of him, some twisted part, couldn't let go of the fact that he'd only tagged the Vigilante and not killed him. He'd never told anyone before, not even Ted, but sometimes he _wanted_ to kill, like it was a form of release. This guy, he seemed like a challenge, and Floyd was a predator that enjoyed hunting dangerous prey.

 _No!_ some part of his mind screamed at him. _Don't let those thoughts take over your mind. You remember last time…what happened…what you did._ Floyd felt like his mind was at war with itself, like the light and darkness inside of him were both trying to take control and he was caught in the crossfire. He decided to take a page from Ted's book and try to nap the conflict away.

* * *

After six weeks, Bruce finally ripped off his cast. No bones had been broken, but his calf muscle had been severely wounded and needed time to heal properly. He looked at where the bullet had entered and noticed a scar. _Probably the first of many_ , Bruce told himself. He stood from his bed and made himself walk. His leg wasn't as weak as it probably should've been. Whenever Alfred hadn't been looking, he'd always try and walk around without the crutches to attempt to keep its strength up. Bounding from rooftop to rooftop to stop criminals wasn't a task for the weak, after all.

He glanced at the scar and thought of something that he hadn't before. "Alfred!" he called into the house. When the butler showed up, Bruce asked, "Did you keep the bullet that I was shot with?"

Alfred nodded and said, "It is down in the 'basement'."

By 'basement' he really meant the cave beneath his father's study, but they'd started referring to it as the basement so neither would slip up around Selina or someone else visiting the house.

"Do you know what kind of gun it was shot from?"

"It was a Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver, sir."

Bruce stopped dead in his tracks and asked, "The second man shot me in the calf from a rooftop with a revolver?"

Alfred nodded. "Which means either he was very lucky or his is very dangerous, which is why I implore you to let this one go, Master B."

"You know I can't do that, Alfred. They may've attacked a bad man, but that might've just happened by chance. They may be no better than the councilman was." Bruce entered the study and removed the remote from its hiding spot in a carved out book. Pushing the button, classical music started playing and the fireplace moved from its original location, revealing a passage into the cave below. Bruce asked, "Were there any fingerprints or forms of identification on the bullet?"

"There were no fingerprints, but Mr. Fox was able to extract partial DNA from something on the round."

"That's great! We'll be able to identify him then."

"Yes, Master Bruce, that's what we had thought. However, the match it came back with couldn't have been possible."

"Why?" Bruce questioned, starting to get frustrated at his butler.

"Because, the man that it matched near perfectly with has been dead for 9 years."

Bruce asked, "Any relatives? Sons or daughters?"

Alfred shook his head. Bruce sunk into the office chair and sighed. "Well then, I guess we're starting from scratch."

"Not quite from scratch, Mr. Fox set up a program that is constantly going through police reports and old files looking for similar instances of vigilantism, not counting yours of course. Four other rich, corrupt politicians have been mugged and exposed in the last two months alone, all with similar MO's. A man in a mask comes out, robs them at knifepoint, injures them in some way, and then leaves, sometimes leaving a file of evidence for the police to find at the crime scene. However, the police believed the other vigilante was working alone, until now at least."

Bruce nodded. "We better get to work then. I don't like the sound of another vigilante in Gotham. He might not have the restraint that I do."

After three hours of combing through files on vigilante activity, Bruce finally found something worthwhile. "Alfred, look at this." He handed his guardian a picture of a man that had been brutally beaten. "Our guy usually just stabs and runs right? Well, this man was stabbed and then nearly beaten to death with what the police thought to be a pair of brass knuckles."

"Who was the victim?" Alfred asked.

"Thomas Caesar, a doctor from the Narrows that'd been selling fake medicine to the homeless and poor."

"Do you think this was our guy?" Alfred asked.

Bruce compared the measurements of the knife wound in Dr. Caesar to another knife wound in one of the vigilante's attacks. He nodded. "It was most likely the same knife, they also both had almost the same entry point near the collarbone. From the direction of the stab, the attacker would've been around 5'10, and had to have been pretty strong to do as much damage as he did to Caesar with just his fists." He sighed. "All the evidence points to this being our guy."

"But, why would he do so much harm to this doctor and not the other politicians?"

Bruce shook his head. "I have no idea." Bruce paused and thought for a moment. "Alfred, aren't brass knuckles illegal in Gotham?" His guardian nodded. "Then, the other vigilante must've gotten them illegally..." An idea dawned on him. "And I think we know someone who'd know where you can get a pair."

Alfred shook his head disapprovingly. "Would you like me to invite Miss Kyle over for a cup of tea while I'm at it?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, but then shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

 **A/N: I'm currently working on two other stories that exist in a different universe from this one and follow two of these main characters (Floyd Lawton and Ted Grant) that aren't (currently) in GOTHAM. So, this story exists in a completely separate world from the other two which should come out quite a while after this story.**

 **Thanks for reading! Make sure to R &R as any feedback at all literally means the world to me!**


	2. Part 2

**A/N: There's really not much for me to say right now…hope you enjoy!**

"So…what's with all the formal stuff?" Selina asked as she sipped on her cup of milk-heavy tea. Alfred had grudgingly left them alone to talk, although he promised he wouldn't be far, casting a distrustful glance at Bruce's guest.

Bruce cocked his head to the side and put on a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ that the last time you invited me over was to find someone who could play a convincing kidnapper. So," she picked up a single roll from the tray and asked, "why am I here?"

Bruce sighed. "I need your help again, and it's kind of similar to what I needed you to do last time."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Of course you needed something." He looked down guiltily and she asked, "Well, what is it?"

He smirked and said, "I was wondering if you know where I could get a pair of brass knuckles." She seemed taken aback, so he explained, "They aren't for me, I'm just doing a small investigation into a couple of muggers and I think that I may have finally gotten a lead."

Selina thought for a moment. "I know a guy who sells 'em for cheap, but he works out of the Narrows…"

"Could you get me the address?" Bruce asked.

She raised her eyebrows at his brashness. "Are _you_ going there?" He nodded. Selina scoffed at him. "You wouldn't last thirty seconds in the Narrows by yourself."

He shook his head. "If this was a few years ago, you'd be right, but not anymore."

She narrowed her eyes at him and stated, "If you're so heart-set on going yourself, then I'm coming with you."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure? It could be dangerous," he teased.

She chucked the biscuit she was holding at his face, but he caught it easily which annoyed her to no end. "Alright, kid, but you aren't wearing…that," she said, gesturing towards his turtleneck and dress slacks.

He shook his head, "Of course not. We can run by the Flea on the way there."

She huffed. "Fine, but you have to do what _I_ say. You may be a big, macho vigilante but Gotham is still my world. Agreed?"

He nodded. "I expected nothing less." He stood and asked, "Shall we be going?"

"Right now?" Selina asked.

"Well, you see, the cab that I called is outside waiting for us, and I think it'd be rather rude to make him wait anymore than he already has, don't you?"

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Sneaking out, are we Bruce?"

"Well, last time I went into the Narrows with you, we got jumped by a couple thugs with swords, so I doubt Alfred would agree to take us." With that, he walked up to the tall windows and opened them. Casting a smug look back at Selina, he said, "I don't think that I've ever used this exit before," and then jumped from the ledge onto the ground below.

Smirking to herself, Selina followed suit and leapt from the balcony with grace.

About ten minutes later, Alfred entered the room with a tray full of fruits and vegetables. Seeing that the room was completely abandoned except for a folded piece of paper, he set the tray down and picked up the sheet. On it was a note in Bruce's handwriting, saying, "Alfred, Selina is taking me to the brass knuckle seller. Only be an hour or two. Your good friend, Bruce."

Alfred muttered to himself, "Damn that girl, always getting him in trouble."

* * *

"So, why do you need to get your brass knuckles replaced again?" Floyd asked his partner.

"Because," Ted replied, "if I go to punch someone and they break, it could screw up my hand bad. I'll only be an hour or so."

"But, what'd be the point? It's not like you're gonna have to use them again…right?" Floyd asked, suddenly a bit nervous. He'd been there the night that Ted had laid into that Doctor Caesar's face. He had watched as his best friend, who was normally friendly and docile, almost beat the poor bastard to death with his bare hands.

"No," Ted replied, suddenly with a dark look on his face. "I'm not gonna use them again. But, if I replace 'em, it'd make it harder for the knuckles to be traced back to me. Besides, it won't cost too much."

Floyd sighed. "It's coming out of your pocket."

The larger boy rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. See ya."

Ted arrived at the Fisherman's Rest Pub about twenty minutes later. He made his way into the back room and found Warren White sitting there counting rolls of money. The man glanced up and smiled his shark-like grin at Ted. "Ah, Mr. Grant. It's been some time."

Ted nodded and pulled out his broken pair of brass knuckles, saying, "I wanted to trade these in, or at least get them fixed."

Mr. White took the weapon and examined it thoroughly. "From what I can see, there are a few cracks, yes, but nothing terrible. So," he looked back at Ted with his pitch black eyes and asked, "why are you really trying to get rid of these?"

Ted's face went dark and he said, "That's none of your business. And if you won't help me, I can go elsewhere to get these repaired."

"But that isn't what you want, is it?"

Ted stopped in his tracks and replied, "No. I want to get rid of them."

White nodded. "Alright then, I can refund you if you'd like but…not for free."

"What do you want me to do?" Ted asked. Warren White had a reputation for having people do his dirty work for him as a form of payment.

He smiled evilly but never got a chance to say as, just then, two more teenagers walked into the backroom of the Fisherman's Rest Pub. Ted turned towards them and asked, "Selina? What are you doing here?"

Selina froze. The little people in her brain were running around, screaming, leaving her to fend for herself. She finally stuttered out, "H-hi, Ted."

Bruce cleared his throat and asked her, "Who is this?"

Selina paused and then said, "Ted, this is my friend, Bruce. Bruce, this is Ted Grant."

They shook hands, and Bruce commented, "Firm grip." What Selina wasn't aware of was the Bruce had been analyzing Ted since they first walked in. He was about 5'10", was broad and strong-looking, and was at a brass knuckle dealer's shop. All evidence pointed towards that this guy was the first mugger, and the one who'd beaten almost beaten Doctor Caesar to death.

And the worst part of all of it was that Selina knew who he was the whole time.

Ted asked Selina again, "So, why are you here again?"

Selina said, "There's a guy that my friend here needs to scare. Figured this'd be the best place to get a pair of brass knuckles, but since you already have business, White, we'll just be going."

She grabbed Bruce by the arm and practically dragged him out of the room, not letting go until they reached an abandoned alleyway three blocks away where she felt safe. She finally stopped and he wrenched his arm from her grip. "So, you knew who the first mugger was this whole time, didn't you?"

She huffed and responded, "Yes, I did, but I warned you to stay away from these guys! They aren't bad people, and they're my friends…"

"So you lied to me?" He shook his head disapprovingly. "But, that shouldn't surprise me anymore, should it?"

She raised her eyebrows high and asked, "What's that supposed to mean? You don't have the right to accuse me of lying after you lied about my mom. Or how about you being a _freaking_ vigilante! That's pretty major isn't it?!"

"And every time I told you the truth when you asked, and don't change the subject." He took a deep breath and told her, "Selina…they're criminals."

"So am I!" she yelled back at him. Selina knew that Bruce would never change his mind about Ted being a criminal so she told him, "And if you can't accept that sometimes the only way to survive in this world is by doing bad things, you should stay away from me."

His determined face never faltered, so she just turned around and walked away from him.

* * *

Floyd had been looking for Selina for nearly two hours when he finally found her feeding the pigeons on the top of a building. Without looking back, Selina yelled at him, "What part of stay away from me did you not understand?"

When he didn't respond, she whirled around to find that it wasn't Bruce standing there, it was Floyd. "I hope you aren't talking about me." He saw that there were marks of tear tracks on her face and her eyes were still a bit puffy.

She rubbed them and asked, "What're you doing here, Floyd?"

Floyd answered, "Ted came back to the apartment and told me he saw you in the backroom of Warren White's Pub…and you were with a kid named Bruce. Well," he walked up beside her and continued, "I seem to remember a year or two back that a certain kid named Bruce stayed at your place for a couple months; he helped you on jobs and whatnot. Now, I remember that you told me about how you and the kid robbed Sonny Gilzean's place and the kid got the living shit beat out of him, and he said that he enjoyed it. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I've got a feeling that the Bruce Ted saw you with and the Bruce that used to live with you is the same person."

Selina did everything she could to keep her face stoic and blank, but she could feel her confidence slipping by the second as he got closer and closer to the truth. "Yeah, he's the same guy. So what?"

"Selina, I've known you since we were little kids. We practically grew up together. That means that I know when you're lying to me." When she didn't respond, he finally spelled it out for her, "I know that you lied to me about knowing who the Vigilante is."

Selina froze completely. Since Floyd had arrived on the roof, his tone of voice had gotten lower and lower and now it was almost a growl. "I'm sorry, Floyd, it's just that…"

"I don't want to hear it!" he interrupted. "I'm not mad, believe it or not. I mean, I'm mad that you lied to me, but I'm not mad that you know who the Vigilante is. Actually, I want you to set up a meeting between us."

Eyes wide, Selina asked, "Why?"

"Because Ted wants a chance to explain himself to him, explain why he did what he did to that doctor." Selina shivered at the memory of watching Ted lay into the man. She'd been in the alley that night, because at the time she'd been the third member of their gang.

Selina said, "That isn't a good idea. Trust me, Bruce won't accept an excuse."

Floyd nodded. "Still, it's what Ted wants, and you know how determined he gets. I figure that we could meet on a rooftop somewhere, just in case your friend decides to do something stupid."

Selina chuckled lightly. "That does sound like he'd do. Alright, I'll talk to Bruce."

"Cool, oh, and tell him to leave the gear. He won't need it."

* * *

By some miracle, and a lot of flirting, Selina had finally managed to convince Bruce to meet with Ted without his Vigilante gear.

Since he was still mad at Selina, Bruce left for Gotham without her. He pulled up to the building in one of his least expensive cars. Scanning his surroundings and seeing no one, he ascended a fire escape and climbed up and onto the roof. The building was a storefront with multiple layers of apartments above it. It wasn't very high either, at least compared to the buildings surrounding it. For some reason, Bruce got the feeling like he was being watched, but other than the other teenage boy standing across from him, there was no one else in sight.

Ted called out to him, "It's Bruce, right?"

Bruce called back, "Yeah, and you're Ted Grant?"

He nodded, walking towards Bruce at a slow pace. When he reached the boy, he stuck out his hand for Bruce to shake. Eyeing the older and much larger boy suspiciously, Bruce obliged and asked, "So, why did you want to meet me again?"

Ted huffed. "I figured I needed to explain what me and my partner do, or, rather, what I did."

Bruce nodded. "The incident with Doctor Caesar."

"Yeah." Ted glanced at the ground sheepishly and said, "I didn't mean for it to escalate like that. A friend of mine had told me about the guy and I confronted him. Selina was there. But, when I got a good look at his face, I recognized him. He was the same doctor that had 'treated' my mom when I was a kid. He'd given her the wrong meds for her depression and…she killed herself. It was his fault. So, when I found him, I just…snapped."

Bruce nodded. "I understand what that's like, believe me. But," he paused, trying to find the right words to tell the other boy, "I can't have another pair of Vigilantes running around hurting people. You almost killed the guy, and…you have to pay for it. I'm sorry." Bruce reached out to grab Ted's arm, but a light in the corner of his eye took away his attention. It was a small, neon green beam that shot from a building opposite them all the way to the dead center of his chest. Frozen, Bruce asked, "Is this your partner?"

Ted nodded shamefully. "I'm sorry, but there are things I still have to do before I can turn myself in. Caesar and Councilman Alvin and the rest, they're all a part of something bigger, I just know it."

Bruce warned, "I'd rethink running away if I were you. Selina taught me how to find people in the city…"

"And _I_ taught Selina almost everything she knows. I'll see you around, Bruce." He walked away, and before Bruce knew it he was out of sight.

Finally, the light went off and Bruce felt safe to move again. He acted for a few seconds as though he would return to where his car was parked, but when he felt like the sniper across the way was fooled, he turned and sprinted after Ted Grant.

Even for a street kid's standards, Ted was extremely good at freerunning. Bruce felt it start to rain, which forced him to slow down so he wouldn't fall to his death. Apparently, Ted didn't like the rain either as he slipped a few times, giving Bruce valuable time to catch up. Finally, with just one rooftop in between them, Ted decided to try and lose the younger boy in The Flea, which was only two blocks away. He leapt from the edge of a building down onto the fire escape opposite, gripping the railing tightly.

That's when everything went wrong. The bar he was holding snapped away from the rest of the frame and his feet slipped on the slick metal platform. He went weightless for a few seconds before all his bodyweight collapsed onto the back of something made of metal: a car's hood.

Bruce found him lying there, unconscious and soaked. He dropped down to the floor and checked the older boy's pulse. "Thank God," he whispered. The boy was still breathing. Using every last ounce of strength, Bruce lugged the boy onto his shoulders and, with a strained cry, he walked to the nearest payphone and called 911. He left Ted lying at bus stop bench that was covered by an awning.

Two minutes later, the paramedics arrived and lifted Ted into an ambulance, rushing him off to Gotham Central Hospital.

Bruce sat above the entire scene, thinking over all the things he'd just done wrong.

* * *

Floyd had lost vision of Ted and Bruce a while ago. As soon as he'd put his gun away, Bruce had taken off and it was too late to fire any kind of shot.

Figuring Ted would go back to their apartment, Floyd made his way into the Narrows and up to his flat. He did a quick 360 around the room but there was no sign of his friend. Floyd wasn't worried. Ted was probably just making sure he'd lost Bruce completely before coming home.

But something still felt…off. He'd only just changed out of his 'work clothes' when he heard the telephone ring.

He immediately knew something was wrong.

He picked up the phone and heard a female voice saying, "Floyd, you need to get to Gotham Central, now!"

"Selina?" he asked. "Why…what's wrong?"

He heard her breath in and out before whispering, "Ted. He fell. It doesn't look good."

The other end hung up and Floyd dropped the receiver entirely. He rushed into his bedroom, grabbed his jacket and shoes, and then practically ran out of the apartment.

 **A/N: Sorry for where this chapter ended, but there was really no other place to separate this chapter and the next/final one. (Although I may add an epilogue)**

 **If you enjoyed this or have any questions, comments, or critiques, please Review as I'm still a new writer and any feedback at all it much appreciated. Ciao!**


	3. Part 3 and Epilogue

**A/N: This will be the final chapter of this story. This has been one of my favorite things I've written ever, especially considering that I've been working on it for less than two weeks. Hope you enjoy!**

Floyd crept into Ted's room in the hospital. Selina was already there, sitting next to him and holding the unconscious boy's hand. She glanced up at him and whispered, "Hi."

Floyd slowly and silently approached the hospital bed. Ted was just lying there. The only sign that he was still alive was the constant rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He looked across at Selina and asked, "Was…was this _him_?"

She shook her head. "They say that he fell."

"Ted Grant fell?" Floyd questioned. "No. He never falls. This was Bruce."

Selina stood from her chair and said, "Bruce wouldn't have done this…he couldn't have."

"I'm not sure you know your friend Bruce as well as you think you do," Floyd stated. "I saw him. He tried to take Ted by force. Anyone who thinks that is a good idea must be crazy."

"No. Floyd, listen to me: this wasn't Bruce."

"Then who was it?" Floyd snapped at her. "Cause I sure as hell know that Ted didn't just fall on his own."

"It was raining tonight. He might've just missed a jump…"

Floyd interrupted her, "You don't believe that."

She paused and then responded, "You're right. I don't. But Bruce wouldn't have pushed him off a roof, he's not like that."

Floyd wasn't thinking clearly. He usual cold, calculating mind was overloading with anger and hate and…fear. He was afraid of Bruce, but specifically, he was afraid of Bruce's power over Selina. He muttered, "I should've killed him when I had the chance."

Selina shook her head. "No, don't think like that." She reached out to grab his hand but he moved it out of her reach.

"I showed him mercy…and _this_ is how he repays me? No. You're right, Selina. Bruce didn't do this to Ted, I did. This is my fault. I made the wrong call and it nearly ended up with Ted being killed." He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, Selina saw no remains of the caring, compassionate friend she'd once known. "And I'm not gonna make that mistake again."

Selina called out to him, but he was already gone. He marched out of the hospital and called a cab to take him back to his apartment. Throughout the entire ride, Floyd continuously promised himself, _By dawn, the vigilante will be dead._

* * *

Bruce had sat and watched from above as the ambulance rushed Ted away. A crushing guilt had fallen on him and he wanted to just curl up and cry, but he couldn't. The night wasn't over. Not yet. Pushing the recent events to the back his mind, he pulled out the key he'd taken from Ted's jacket.

On the key, there were three letters, WFP. It stood for the Wayne Foundation Projects. He knew where it was in the Narrows and started making his way towards it.

The trip only took him a couple minutes by rooftop and he eventually made his way into the lobby. He greeted the receptionist, "Hi. My friend left his key and I was here to return it but I don't know what his apartment number is." The lady asked for his friend's name and he answered, "Ted Grant."

She nodded and told him that Ted lived in 331. He made his way up to the third floor and found the apartment. Silently slipping the key in, he opened the door cautiously. All the lights were off, and he didn't see anyone so he entered and shut the door behind himself.

He did a quick scan of the room. The only thing out of place was a window that had been left just slightly ajar. He started snooping around, discovering a false roof in the closet. Above it were a revolver and a few knives and a pair of brass knuckles.

Bruce continued to investigate and in one of the bedrooms he found a dark mask like the one Ted had worn that night they'd first met, as well as a bag filled with expensive looking jewelry that had been stuffed behind a trash can.

He went into the other room and found a trunk below the bed. Inside was a long trench coat with light body armor stitched in and a pair of worn down shoes like the ones Selina used to wear for freerunning. Below those was an old, bolt action rifle with a scope attached.

Carved into the trunk's lid were two initials: FL.

"FL?" Bruce asked himself. Who was FL?

Just then the door to the apartment opened. Bruce quickly tried to put all the stuff back into the trunk, but it would've taken too long. He only had enough time to hastily shut the lid and dive under the small bed before the door to the bedroom was opened. Bruce could only see the other person's shoes.

The figure hesitated, and he called out, "Hello?" He walked towards his trunk and lifted it up off the ground, placing it on the bed above Bruce.

The boy opened the trunk and apparently took out the rifle and clothes. He closed the trunk and asked, "So, you're Bruce, then?"

Bruce's blood ran cold.

The voice continued, "You hurt my friend real bad, ya know. To think, I could've killed you, and all this could've been avoided. But, I showed you mercy. Tell me, Bruce, is this how you normally return kindness?"

Bruce slid out from his hiding spot, holding his hands high. "I'm sorry for what happened to Ted, it was an accident."

Floyd laughed mirthlessly. "You know, that's what Selina said. Let me ask you this, Bruce: if I didn't believe her, why the hell should I believe you?" When he didn't respond, Floyd told Bruce, "You can put your hands down. I'm not gonna kill you, at least, not yet anyways. Nah, I wanna show you what it feels like to be destroyed, to have everything and everyone you care about ripped away from you because you made one wrong decision. And coming here," he leered, "was a bad, bad decision."

He removed the rifle from where it had rested on his shoulder and fired a single shot at Bruce's left arm. Luckily, Bruce had managed to move just slightly and the bullet only grazed him.

Before Floyd could fire again, Bruce made a run for the door and burst out into the small apartment. He grabbed a lamp and threw it at Floyd, hitting the boy square in the face. Having only a few seconds to react, Bruce dashed for the window that'd been left open and threw himself through it and onto the fire escape. Knowing that if he descended to the streets the other boy would have an easy shot, he decided to climb up towards the rooftops. He'd only made it up a floor and a half before Floyd joined him on the fire escape.

Floyd was in no hurry. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the hunt, like a predator toying with its prey before the kill. Finally, Bruce reached the roof and, taking a few steps back for good measure, sprinted towards the edge of his building and leapt across the gap to another fire escape. He'd made it several floors up when a gunshot fired and a potted plant on the windowsill next to him shattered. Bruce looked back to see Floyd standing on the roof of his apartment building. He was smirking, like he knew that he could've killed him.

Having nowhere else to go, Bruce pulled two paperclips out of a pocket in his coat and picked the lock of the apartment next to him. Thanks so Selina's teaching, he got the lock to open in just a few seconds and then slipped in the window. Luckily, there was no one in the house, so he walked out the front door and made a break for the stairs.

This time, he decided to go down. He knew that the building he was in was connected to the old subway tracks that'd been abandoned because part of it had collapsed.

When he arrived on the first floor, he glanced out through a window on the double doors and saw Floyd enter the building. Their eyes made contact for just a millisecond before Bruce ducked and sprinted towards the descending stairs. Just as he reached the tunnel, he heard the doors to the stairs be kicked open.

He ran down into the dark tunnel and eventually found a place where he could hide temporarily. Trying to catch his breath, he listened as slow, stalking footsteps echoed through the tunnel.

"Bruce?" the voice called out. "Hiding now, are we? We aren't done yet." He fired a shot from his rifle, which rang through the tunnel like an explosion. Bruce covered his ears to protect them from the sharp blast, but apparently his shift in movement hadn't gone unnoticed by Floyd.

"To think," Floyd taunted, "I thought you were a threat. No, no you're just a scared little boy playing hero, aren't you?"

Bruce did something really stupid in that moment. He climbed out of his hiding spot and out into the open. It was almost pitch black in that tunnel, but he knew Floyd could see him. He responded, "You're wrong." He started to walk towards his attacker and stated, "I'm not a hero."

With that, he grabbed a chunk of rock of the ground and chucked it at his opponent.

It was such a stupid, unpredictable thing that it actually worked. The rock hit Floyd in the knee, causing the boy to double over temporarily. Seizing his chance, Bruce ran for the exit, making his way out of the building and across the street to another fire escape.

He recognized the rooftop he was on. It was the same one that he'd met with Ted on earlier that night. He'd almost made it to the roof when a white-hot pain shot through his side. He dropped onto the roof, crying out in pain once again. He'd been shot through the side and it was already bleeding badly.

He blocked the throbbing pain from his mind and tried to crawl across the roof, but he only made it a few feet before another pair of footsteps joined him on the roof.

"Stand up, Bruce," the voice commanded. He turned to see Floyd standing there. He'd set his rifle on the ledge and was only standing there with a revolver. When Bruce didn't respond, he yelled, "Stand up, dammit!" He grabbed the boy by his collar and lifted him up like a doll. "What's wrong?" he taunted. He dropped him back on his feet and demanded, "Fight me!" putting the revolver in his back pocket.

Bruce felt extremely light headed from blood loss and he knew that he couldn't beat a seasoned fighter like Floyd in a fair fight. But he swung at him anyways. Floyd countered easily and then kicked the back of his right knee, forcing Bruce into a kneeling position. He started laying into the side of his head and his back with punches and kicks, trying to do as much bodily harm to the other boy as he could.

Floyd laughed evilly. "Come on, I thought you were better than this! Come on, Bruce; show me what you were going to do if you caught Ted. But, try not to throw me off a roof this time."

Bruce choked out through a bloody mouth, "I…I didn't do that. He fell."

"Liar!" Floyd yelled. He kicked the younger boy hard in the ribs and Bruce rolled over onto his back.

Floyd pulled out his revolver and aimed it at the boy's head. "To think, I could've prevented all of this." He shrugged, "Oh well."

Floyd cocked back the pistol, but before he could fire, a cord wrapped around the barrel of the gun and yanked it out of his hand.

He whirled around to see Selina Kyle standing there, whip in hand. She picked up his gun and tossed it off the roof.

"Selina…" he said, seeing her but not really believing what she had done. "What are you doing?"

She looked just as shocked as he felt. "Floyd…" Just then, the door that led from the roof down into the building burst open with GCPD and SWAT. It felt like a thousand voices were screaming at him to put his hands up or get on the ground, but he only heard one of them. It was Selina's. She spoke in only just above a whisper, but her heard her clear as day. "I'm sorry."

He was eventually grabbed by the police and forced onto the ground where they handcuffed him.

To Floyd, it didn't feel real, like what was happening wasn't actually happening.

It was just a dream; just another nightmare.

Before they had gotten him through the door to the stairs, he sent one last meaningful glance at Selina and called out to her, "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

Floyd woke up with a massive migraine, like his head was trying to tear itself open. Swearing under his breath he sat up and took a look around his holding cell. Only a night before he'd hunted down and beaten the living shit out of Bruce Wayne, and he would've killed him if Selina hadn't stopped him in time. _Selina_ , he thought. Without a doubt, he'd ruined any kind of relationship he'd had with her. "Damn…" he whispered.

A loud clanging noise brought him back to reality. One of the detectives who'd interrogated him the night before, Harvey Bullock, was dragging a stapler back and forth along the bars of the cell. "Rise 'n shine, Lawton. There's someone here to see you."

He opened the cage and put Floyd in a pair of handcuffs. Bullock led him into an interrogation room and, surprisingly, released him from his bindings. Floyd walked in and Bullock shut the door behind him. Across the small table sat a short, black woman who was staring at him with a sick curiosity.

She greeted, "Hello, Mr. Lawton. I hope that your captors have treated you well?" When he didn't respond, she continued, "My name is Amanda Waller, and I work for the United States Government. You see, over the past few years we have taken a special interest in your…skill set, and we'd like to help you develop your talents. But first things first," she reached into her large purse and pulled out a pistol that Floyd recognized. "I believe this is yours?" He nodded slowly and she asked, "Hypothetically speaking, if there was a single bullet in the chamber right now, what would you do with it?"

He reached for the gun cautiously, expecting her to take it back or call for an officer's help, but she simply looked at him quizzically. He picked up his weapon and examined it. By its weight, he determined that the gun was indeed loaded, and it didn't appear that the gun had been tampered with. Still, he asked, "What'd you do to it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean, no one in their right mind would hand a killer a gun, especially one they're familiar with. So," he aimed the gun at her, "what did you do to it? Filed down the firing pin? Loaded it with blanks?"

She shrugged. "If you think that is true, pull the trigger. See what happens."

Floyd knew they were playing a game of Cat and mouse, but a sick part of him actually enjoyed the challenge. After a few tense moments, he lowered the weapon and told her, "You're crazy."

"No, I'm just a gambler." She held out her hand and Floyd gave the weapon back to her. She unloaded the chamber and, sure enough, there was a single live round inside. "You see, I'm working on a team of powerful individuals to do the jobs that no one else can or will. And I believe that the machine behind your right eye could be invaluable to the team. Of course, you'd be rewarded handsomely for your cooperation: all criminal records erased, a steady income, everything you could want."

"What's the catch?" Floyd questioned. "Other than risking my life for a living."

"Other than that, there is no catch. It's a high-risk high-reward job that only the most capable can perform." She pulled a few papers out of her bag and laid them out on the table. "I'm sure you'll have terms, people you'll want to see before you go, but if not, you can sign these contracts and become a full member of Task Force X."

Floyd nodded. "There's one place I need to go first."

Miss Waller led him out of the room handcuff-free. One of the main officers that'd led his arrest the night before, Jim Gordon, started to protest, but his partner grabbed him and whispered something that shut the detective up quickly.

The lady told one of her people to go retrieve Floyd's stuff from evidence lockup and to bring it to the car. She led him out and into a limousine. It hadn't been the first time he'd ridden in one, but it had been the first time he'd done so legally.

She told the driver to take them to Gotham Central Hospital and after a quick drive from the police station, Floyd bolted out of the car. He made his way up into the top floors and found Ted's room. However, the unconscious Ted Grant wasn't alone in the room. Selina was passed out in a chair next to him, her head resting on the edge of the mattress.

Floyd moved silently up to his comatose best friend and told him, "I had hoped you'd be awake. I'm going away for a while. I'm gonna try all of this over again; try and make something out of my life. I'm not gonna be a criminal anymore. I think you'd be proud." He smiled to himself and continued, "You were right, you know, when you said all those years back that Gotham was changing. But it isn't just Gotham, anymore. Everything's changing." He sighed. "I have to go, stay safe."

He had almost walked out, but a feminine voice called behind him, "Floyd?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Turning slowly, he found Selina Kyle staring back at him. She had clearly been crying, which made him feel even guiltier for all he had done. Having no idea what to say, he simply replied, "Hi, Cat."

She stood up from her chair and they just stood there for a few moments, neither sure what to do. Selina finally stuttered out, "W-what are you doing here?"

He answered, "Just saying my goodbyes, is all. I'm going away for a while. There're people who want to see me use my gift used to the best of its ability." He turned away from her and said, "I hope you don't remember me as the guy on the rooftop last night. I was wrong and I hurt you…and for that I'm truly, truly sorry."

She walked around him so they were face to face. She had tears in her eyes, which was odd as she was always so strong. Suddenly, she embraced him tightly around his abdomen. His arms fell over her shoulders and she told him quietly, "I'll miss you, Floyd."

He nodded. "I'll miss you, too, but this is for the best." He let go of her and said, "I have to go." He affectionately wiped a tear off her cheek and told her, "Stay out of trouble."

She nodded and replied sarcastically, "Always."

* * *

After a few more hugs and goodbyes, Floyd finally left the hospital and made his way back into the limo.

Amanda Waller asked, "So, will that be all?" holding out the contract in front of her for Floyd to take.

Floyd nodded and signed all the papers. When he was done, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, this part won't hurt a bit."

Floyd cocked his head to the side and asked, "What part?" but it was too late. He felt a sharp prick in his neck and after a few seconds of confusion, everything went black.

He woke up in another cell, this one a bit larger than the one at the GCPD. He was surrounded by concrete walls and the only access he had to the outside world was a small, barred window at the top of the cell and a glass window on his door. He approached the door and yelled, "Hello?! Hey! _Waller_!"

A man in heavy body armor approached the glass and yelled, "Shut it, inmate 2X!"

"2X?" Floyd asked. "Where am I?"

A familiar female voice rang through the hall, "You're in a hole, Mr. Lawton. And we threw away the hole." The last thing he saw before the guard put a sheet of metal over the window was Amanda Waller's smug face looking back at him.

 **A/N: Well, that was fun to write. I hope you all enjoyed and if you have any ideas for other stories you'd like me to write, feel free to Personal Message me. Thanks for reading!**

 **PS. Oh, and this story isn't a lead in to the movie Suicide Squad. Just thought it'd be a good idea to clarify. This is my own artistic rendering of the earliest Task Force X in Gotham. (And I may right my own Suicide Squad story existing in the Gothamverse later on)**


	4. References and Easter Eggs

**ADK: A Pair of Thieves References:**

 **A/N: Hi everyone! This isn't a continuation of A Pair of Thieves, as the main storyline is done. I just felt like, through reading some of your reviews, it would be good for me to compile a list of references and characters that I used throughout the story.**

 **I try to make everything I write as near to the level of the Gotham writers as possible, which means throwing in a lot of Easter Eggs and references for comic fans to catch. Hopefully you enjoy seeing all the layers that I tried to put into my story.**

 **In particular, I'd like to show you all who the "OC's" are since they aren't in Gotham (yet) and some people don't read the comics much.**

Floyd Lawton:

He becomes Deadshot, an assassin for hire that is considered to be the second best assassin in the DC Universe, only trailing Deathstroke himself.

Has made large appearances in the DCeU, Arrowverse, and other forms of live-action and cartoon entertainment.

Ted Grant:

Grows up to become Wildcat, a Gotham Vigilante who is a superior boxer and uses knifes and brass knuckles to fight enemies.

Has made several appearances in the Arrowverse and other forms of live-action television.

Warren White:

Eventually goes to Arkham Asylum where he is locked in a freezer by inmates until his nose, ears, and hair all falls off, leaving him disfigured. He becomes a Crime Boss named Great White Shark.

Fisherman's Rest Pub:

The _Fisherman's Rest_ is a main location in the classic, _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ , which I am currently reading and I thought it'd be a fun thing to just throw in there.

Amanda Waller:

Leads the Taskforce X Project (Creates the Suicide Squad) in the comics and the recent film adaptations

Inmate 2X:

I believe that we saw Killer Croc back in Season 3 of Gotham during the Arkham Breakout and that he would've been the first "person" that Amanda would've recruited into the Suicide Squad. Floyd would've been the second, therefore he'd be 2X.


End file.
